


honi soit qui mal y pense

by flyingtothemoon



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, CoS except instead of weimar germany ed lands in 40s london, Crack Treated Seriously, Hurt/Comfort, I know., Other, POV Outsider, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-World War II, Royalty, This is weird even for me, also i KNOW it's the court of st james's, i am so sorry this is a thing i wrote, too many anachronisms to count
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28602294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingtothemoon/pseuds/flyingtothemoon
Summary: Somehow, through quite inexplicable means, Edward Elric finds himself in the court of St James.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	honi soit qui mal y pense

**Author's Note:**

> umm so like I have no explanation for this other than "I wanted it to happen", so strap in boys we're in for some fun niche crossover time! thanks again to koo for reading. i apologize for all the anachronisms in advance; they're there, i know, but then again this is a story where alchemy is a Real Science, albeit in another dimension, so maybe the historical fuckery pales in comparison. i hope.

A: Welcome to BBC’s History Extra podcast. I’m your host, Anne McFinley, and today we’re talking to author and historian Jane Rothfield about her upcoming biography _Edward Elric: the Invisible Man,_ which comes out January 21st in the UK. Welcome, Jane.

J: Thank you for having me.

A: I’d like to start by talking about why you’ve chosen this specific topic. Obviously your background is in Royal history, but why Edward Elric? What is it about him that drew you to his story? I suppose, what was the impetus behind this project?

J: Oh, well, I’m glad you’ve asked that. Like the title implies, Elric is kind of one of those members of the Royal household who stays in the background and keeps a low profile. But then when you really look at things, he’s had this massive, enduring influence on some of the most senior members of the Royal family.

[pause]

J: I think, also, he’s someone that the public will really find interesting once they start getting to know his background. I mean, it’s just so fascinating. How _did_ a German-born wartime mathematician and physicist with no childhood records come to be so embroiled in the court of St James?[1] Of course, from the declassified records, we now know that he was part of Project Enigma, but his is a life so singularly unique, well, that nothing short of an entire book would do it justice.

A: Quite extraordinary.

* * *

**WINDSOR CASTLE, 1946**

“Good morning, your Majesty.”

Tommy Lascelles was an officious looking man, his expression always stern, and his posture always straight. But, Albert reflected, that same officiousness was what made him so dependable.[2]

He cleared his throat before speaking.

“Hello Tommy. What’ve you got for me today?”

In one quick stride (for even his walking was done in a no-nonsense manner), the man came up beside his desk.

“Just the usual, sir. Cabinet meetings and Foreign Office papers.”[3]

He glanced down at the red box.

“Oh, and one other thing. There has been some discussion in Parliament, and I gather the feeling is that Her Royal Highness, Princess Elizabeth, might require… further formation to prepare her for her future role as Sovereign.”

This caught Albert by surprise. First, because he had never before heard complaints about his eldest daughter’s ability to carry out her official duties. Second, because Tommy had always refused to be a mouthpiece for politicians. His devotion was to the family, utterly and completely. That he went out of his way to bring it up meant he must agree with this talk, to a certain extent.

“Further formation?”

“Yes, sir. Although she remains heir presumptive, I believe it is quite safe to say she will, in time, be the Sovereign. In which case, her education with the Vice-Provost might prove somewhat insufficient.”

His words were spoken slowly, each carefully calibrated so as to not cause offence.

“How so?”

“Her Royal Highness has been schooled extraordinarily well in all matters of the Constitution, but the worry is that, while performing her duties as Sovereign, she may be a little blindsided in matters of science and technology — which as you know are becoming so crucial to world events.”

He cleared his throat before continuing: “for history and philosophy, I trust that someone in the household will do fine, but it has been suggested that we otherwise engage a… tutor, of sorts.”

Albert mulled it over. It was indeed true that sometimes he felt, if not overwhelmed, then a little left behind when speaking with his ministers. But still, such a thing is a clear deviation from custom.

“And you support this, Tommy? You would have my daughter trained like a common politician?”

Aghast, his Private Secretary protested: “No, of course not, sir. The only goal is to make sure that we do not leave Her Royal Highness ill-equipped in any way whatsoever. To give her whatever she may need to feel… confident. Assured in her role.”

A worthy goal, Albert thought. Well, alright: his daughter should have the education he did not receive himself.

“Then I’ll leave it to you and Cabinet to make a suitable selection.”

“Very good, your Majesty.”

He bowed from the neck down, turning around to leave.

“Ah— wait, Tommy. I do have one request. Perhaps someone around her age? No one too stuffy and imperious. I don’t want Lilibet to feel like she is being dictated to. A peer, not a professor; someone who can be a companion.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be sure to pass that on.”

They settled the matter quickly and efficiently, but though he did not know it then, this was to become a turning point in the course of all their lives.

**BUCKINGHAM PALACE**

The man before her formed a queer image. Could he even be called a man? He was her age — only 19, going on 20. A boy, if anything. Yet that wasn’t even the most peculiar thing about him.

Something of the way he held himself reminded Elizabeth of the old veterans that she had met during her time in the Auxiliary Territorial Service. He scanned the room cautiously but discreetly when he first stepped in, as if assessing potential dangers and scoping out exit routes. And there was a stiffness to his posture that spoke of a keen, alert mind.

Most commoners when they first met her were alternately flustered and uptight, falling over themselves to make sure they addressed her correctly, or simply so caught up in protocol that they were robotic.

Mummy liked the latter, but she much preferred a human touch. _He_ was collected and self-possessed, deferring to her properly in his words but not in the assured, one might even call confident, look in his eyes.

And this young man (for calling him a “boy” even in her own head felt unduly demeaning) was to be her tutor. Though she was his senior in rank and position, she felt strangely self-conscious in his presence. Surely, for Cabinet to have selected him and the Palace approved him, he had to be of exceptional intelligence. He got to be here by virtue of his own talent, unlike she, and the thought of being caught off guard made her rather uncomfortable.

Nevertheless. Let it not be said that Princess Elizabeth ever forgot her manners.

“Mr Elric wasn’t it? Do sit down.”[4]

She gestured at the seat across from her.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

That was the other strange thing — his slight, but undeniable German accent. Already in 1946 it was becoming easier for German families (of good standing, of course) to move more freely in the circles of British Society. But it was another matter altogether in government, where distrust of German nationals ran deep.

Elizabeth wondered why he, of all the available people, was chosen for this position, though there was no doubt whatsoever about his expertise.

In a way, he reminded her of Philip. Neither was anyone’s first choice, she wagered, and both had the gleam of a razor-sharp intelligence whenever they spoke.

But where Philip was boisterous and charming, Edward was reserved and a little awkward. Likewise, where Philip was, by anyone’s estimation, an Adonis of a man, with his neatly cropped, blonde hair and towering stature, Edward was rather short — her height, actually — and wore his hair long and pulled up in a high ponytail.

“Ma’am?”

Ah, her attention had drifted.

“I’m sorry, you were saying?”

“I believe that’s our time for today.”

She glanced at the clock.

“Yes I think you’re right. Thank you for the lesson today, Mr Elric. It was quite illuminating.”

“Just Edward would be fine, ma’am,” replied he, with a little smile.

“Very well, then, Edward.”

In lieu of a goodbye, he nodded: “Your Royal Highness.”

What an odd man.

* * *

[1] Okay, I know it’s “the court of St James’s”. I know. I just think it sounds stupid when spoken, and since it is meant to be a podcast… anyways, forgive the correction for aesthetic’s sake.

[2] George VI’s Christian name was Albert Windsor.

[3] In extended conversations, the protocol is “your Majesty” for the greeting, then “sir” afterwards. I imagine because “your Majesty” is a mouthful to say every time.

[4] It’s perfectly within her right to refer to him by first name. But considering that this is their first time meeting, and also the respect accorded to him as a tutor, I feel that she would opt for the last name.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! do leave your thoughts in the comments, if you'd like :)


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